A/N: Welcome again to yet another chapter. Thank you to each and every single one of you who reads this story. I don't care if you don't fave, follow, or review; if you've liked this fic enough to keep reading, that's good enough for me. The rest is just really sweet icing on the cake. Seriously though, I love icing, ha ha. ;)

HUGE thank you to Rabbitheartedgirl88 for bringing new readers to this fic, I owe you big time! And welcome to all of you who are new to this fic, happy to have you. :) Littleshelly0619 this one's for you.

Oh, and uh . . . hold on to your butts. ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Dog Days of Dixon

It was nearing Halloween before Daryl and Carol managed to get a whole day to spend together on the bike. Their work schedules kept them apart with Daryl working at both the diner and motorcycle shop and Carol taking on extra shifts at the diner to earn extra income to pay off her surgery bills. But they finally had a Saturday off together and were getting ready to leave.

The weather was cooling off from the summer but it wasn't too cold yet. Daryl was sitting on the motorcycle, in jeans and a leather jacket, waiting on Carol to make her way outside. He didn't have to wait long as she walked through the front door and pulled it shut, locking it behind her, before making her way over to him. She wore a heavy jacket to protect her from the wind, a pair of jeans and black, knee-high, flat-heeled, leather boots over those jeans. Daryl swallowed and looked away when she caught him looking her up and down. He had to admit, she looked a little badass.

Daryl handed her a helmet before pulling his own on and scooting forward on the seat so she could climb on. Carol braced herself on his shoulders and threw her leg over the bike to straddle it, keeping her feet on the ground and hands on his shoulders until he stood and kick started the engine, the bike roaring to life. Carol gasped softly, a shiver running up her spine from the vibrations beneath her; this bike was definitely a turn on. Daryl returned to his seat and Carol slid forward, drawing her feet up off the ground to sit on the foot rests and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Daryl's spine stiffened at the contact; having someone pressed against his back was not a sensation he enjoyed. His eyes were closed and he was forcing himself to take calming breaths. It's just Carol repeated itself in his mind for several moments until he relaxed enough to focus on driving. He backed them out of the driveway and then took off out of Atlanta to drive the back roads of Georgia. And it was the perfect time for a joyride – fall had set in, turning the trees all sorts of colors. Amazing hues of orange, red, and yellow painted the landscape of rolling hills set against a bright blue sky.

Carol was thrilled. She felt so incredibly free riding on that bike with Daryl; the wind whipping past, the beautiful scenery, the bike thrumming beneath her, his body so close to hers. Carol blushed, thinking about just how close he was, her chest against his back, her legs pressed against his. She giggled at the memory of her dirty joke from those few weeks ago. Carol couldn't believe the things that came into her head with him around; she was almost as surprised as he was at some of the dirty things that came out of her mouth. But she loved it, loved this new, playful, wild side and she especially loved teasing him with it; his facial expressions were priceless.

She hadn't been completely teasing with that joke though; getting to be this close to him was wonderful. Carol relished spending this kind of time with him and squeezed him a little tighter in a hug before resting her chin over his shoulder and watching the landscape fly by. They rode for hours until the sun was in the center of the sky and their stomachs were rumbling. Carol giggled when her hands could actually feel his stomach grumbling, even through the leather jacket.

Daryl stopped in the middle of nowhere, pulling the bike off the road and rolling it a ways away, parking it next to a tree. Carol pulled a small blanket from one of the saddle bags on the bike and laid it out on the ground before retrieving food for their lunch – sandwiches, a baggie of strawberries, and two bottles of water. They ate in contented silence, sitting next to each other and looking out over the field they had parked next to, watching the tall golden grass sway with the wind.

Carol leaned into Daryl; silently thanking him for today, a day she knew would forever be a treasured memory. He looked down at her, watching her munch on strawberries before he smirked and grabbed her hand with a half-eaten strawberry in it and took the last bite for himself.

"Hey!" She frowned up at him in mock indignation but he could see the smile she was trying to hide and grinned at her.

He pulled another strawberry from the baggie and held it up to her mouth. Carol glanced at it before taking a big bite, fruit juice running down her chin. His eyes darkened at the sight and Daryl nudged her face up with his finger before his tongue darted out, licking her chin up to her lips before pressing their mouths together.

The move floored Carol. She was so shocked she didn't respond for a few seconds. But his initiative ignited a fire in her and her hands wrapped around his neck bringing him closer and she tilted her head back to deepen the kiss. Carol traced his lips with her tongue, seeking entrance and Daryl opened his mouth to her. He was still new to the art of kissing with tongue but Carol was happy to teach him; he was a fast learner. Daryl was doing fine until she leaned back, taking him with her to the ground and started exploring him with her hands.

Carol's fingertips were ghosting over his torso, the light touches meant to be soft and sweet but they only made his skin crawl. He froze and she stopped, sensing his shift. Carol stared up at him, confused, and he pulled away; she returned to her sitting position, trying to erase the disappointed look on her face. Daryl had been getting braver with their kissing over the last few weeks but any time her hands came away from his face or from around his neck and started to touch him, he pulled away, unwilling to go further. Carol didn't understand what the issue was but her gut told her there was something more, something under the surface that she didn't know. She wanted to understand, she wanted to help him move past whatever it was, but Carol was afraid of pushing him. She wanted him to be ready for these sorts of things on his own time, not hers.

Daryl was frustrated and embarrassed with himself. He wanted to go further but every time, every single time Carol started touching him like that he just couldn't take it. Holding hands, gentle touches on his arms and face, kissing . . . those were all new experiences; untainted. But hands touching him, fingers brushing against his body, that wasn't a new experience. Unfortunately, that sensation was associated with his darkest memory and it was proving an extraordinary barrier to get past. Daryl could see the questions in her eyes but just the thought of opening his mouth had his throat closing and he looked away, sighing. He knew he was disappointing her.

Suddenly, a strawberry appeared in front of his face and his eyes returned to Carol. She had a soft smile, the one that said I understand and he smiled softly in return, taking a small bite from the strawberry. Carol leaned up to him and kissed his cheek before leaning her head on his shoulder and twining her fingers with his. He was still disappointed in himself but her patience meant the world; he didn't know how she got past these awkward moments so gracefully but he was grateful.

They sat awhile, enjoying the quiet company. Daryl pointed out a few female deer meandering their way through the field but sticking close to the tree line. A handsome eight-point buck was following them, eager to make them his mates for the season. As they drew closer though, Daryl decided it was time to leave and helped Carol pick up their stuff and get it back in the bike.

"Gotta be careful roun' deer during ruttin' season," he told her, folding up the blanket. Daryl knew she loved learning what he knew about wildlife and the outdoors and he liked sharing his knowledge.

"Why?"

"Ya don't wanna get between a buck and his doe," he replied, grinning. Carol nodded thoughtfully before smirking at him and raising an eyebrow.

"Sounds about like any man I know. Only got one thing on the brain," she grinned and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Uh huh, that's why you're the one makin' dirty jokes all the time, right?" Carol's mouth fell open to respond but she simply couldn't think of a clever retort. He smirked when he realized he had the upper hand in this playful conversation. But a devilish grin split his face when a dirty thought occurred to him and he brought his face closer to hers, whispering in her ear, "Admit it, ya only wanted ta ride that bike today 'cuz ya wanted somethin' big an' powerful between those legs."

He pulled back and the grin he had on his face was one of pure smugness. Carol's jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide with surprise, her face flushing red; Daryl committed that expression to memory knowing she'd put the same one on his face many times and he was proud to return the favor. He turned and walked away towards the motorcycle as Carol recovered from her shock and eventually followed him.

Daryl had the bike started and his helmet on with the visor up, he was still grinning at her with that smug smile. Carol smirked back, not one to let him win that easily. Calling on her inner vixen she sauntered up to him, leaned down and leveled him with a seductive smirk, fingers pulling on the chin of his helmet, drawing him closer. She didn't miss his eyes glancing down her shirt.

"Oh, there's only one thing I want to ride, Dixon," her voice was husky and Daryl swallowed. "But for now I'll settle for this bike," she grinned at him before standing straight and sliding his visor down. Daryl shook his head and grinned; he had to admit she won this round. Carol slid on behind him and they took off towards home but he took his time getting there. He was in no hurry for the day to come to an end, it was yet another good memory that Carol had given him.

-TWD-

Every year before the holidays Carol was in the habit of deep cleaning the house, wanting her home to look especially nice for those times and Daryl's house was no different. With Thanksgiving coming up in a couple weeks, Carol decided to spend her day off cleaning the house from top to bottom. She started by dusting off ceiling fans and getting rid of cobwebs in hard-to-reach corners. Next, Carol moved on to walls and windows, cleaning out the sills and washing away scuff marks that seemed to magically appear out of nowhere. The kitchen was scrubbed to a sparkling clean, as was the bathroom. She did round after round of laundry including their bedding before making their beds with the fresh sheets and blankets. Carol dusted off every inch of furniture and wiped down the baseboards with a damp cloth before moving on to vacuuming.

Pulling out the vacuum, one she'd had to purchase herself when she realized Daryl didn't have his own, Carol started in the back hallway and bedrooms, leaving the living room for last. She had to laugh when she got to the living room and started moving furniture around to vacuum underneath; it looked as if, in all the time he'd lived there, the furniture had never been moved. The feet of the couch had left deep impressions on the carpet and there was even a color difference between where the couch sat and where it didn't. But something else caught her eye, something half-hidden under the couch. It was red, made of dense rubber, and cone-shaped with bite marks. She had no idea what it was and figured she'd ask Daryl about it when he got home, dropping it on the couch. She also had no idea the havoc it would wreak.

Finally, Carol moved on to the last chore of the day – cleaning the kitchen floor. Down on her hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water and scrub brush Carol washed every last inch of the linoleum, getting it as clean as the day it was installed. As she was finishing up the last bit of floor between the kitchen and living room, Daryl returned home. Walking through the front door he dropped his keys on the table next to the door and toed off his boots, admiring the work Carol had done until his eyes landed on her.

"Someone's been busy today," he smiled, pretending to ignore the nice view of her ass from where he was standing.

"Yep," Carol sat back, wiping sweat from her brow, "Got the whole house and this floor was last on my list," she dropped the scrub brush into the now dirty water bucket before peeling off her gloves and dropping them in as well. "Dinner's in the fridge if you're hungry, just gotta heat it up. Other than this spot here," she gestured at the part she just finished, "the floor should be dry."

Daryl walked up to her and leaned down to greet her with a kiss on the forehead before making his way around her and over the wet spot to get to the fridge. Carol stood and stretched, moving the water bucket out of the way to be dealt with later. She made her way into the living room but called out to Daryl before he could touch the fridge.

"Don't you dare touch anything in that kitchen before washing your hands, Mister!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Daryl grinned and washed up before pulling a foil-wrapped plate from the fridge. Tearing off the foil he popped it into the microwave and set the timer, leaning on the counter to wait. Carol had already eaten and was ready to relax for the evening. She flopped onto the couch and something hard dug into her shoulder. Confused until she remembered what she found earlier, Carol grabbed the object and stood up to walk back to the kitchen, calling out a question to Daryl.

"Hey Daryl? What is this?" A completely innocent question with unfathomable consequences.

Daryl walked around the corner from the kitchen, hot plate in hand, and spotted what she held. It took him a moment to realize what it was. A chew toy. Daryl's face paled when he recognized Duke's favorite toy, obviously lost and long forgotten about until now. Where the hell had it come from?

Memories long since locked away broke free of their dark confines and barreled through his mind with the force of a freight train. With everything else that happened, Daryl had nearly forgotten about Duke. Seeing the dog's favorite toy dragged every nasty memory of his final confrontation with his father to the surface. Who knew such an innocent thing could trigger such chaos?

The plate Daryl was holding slipped from his fingers and shattered in front of him. He sank to the floor after it, eyes squeezed shut and clutching his head as memories he'd tried to forget about assaulted him. The toy had acted as a trigger, causing a severe flashback, and Daryl was caught in the midst of it.

"Daryl? Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Confused but concerned, Carol dropped the toy and approached him, kneeling down next to Daryl. She moved to place a comforting hand on him but the second her palm touched his back, he lashed out.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, wild eyes glaring at her but it wasn't Carol he was seeing. His palm slammed into her stomach, shoving her away and knocking the breath from her. Carol fell backwards, her lower back hitting the narrow wall between the kitchen and living room. A sharp cry escaped her as pain lanced up her back from the still-sensitive surgery spot.

The sound sent a jolt through Daryl's chaotic mind and snapped him out of the flashback. He looked at Carol with a mix of fear and horror on his face. He hit her. He hurt her. A strangled cry escaped him as he backed away, looking sick and shaking. Carol was still too winded to even so much as lift a finger to reach out to him, to try to figure out what was happening.

All Daryl could think to do was run. Get away from her. Get away from what he'd done. Get away before he did it again. Before she could stop him, Daryl grabbed his keys and bolted out the front door, not even bothering with his boots. Carol heard his bike roar to life and Daryl took off, disappearing into the dark of night.

A sob escaped her, followed by many more and tears streamed down her face. She was so lost and confused with what just happened and had no idea how to make sense of it. Carol was scared she'd done something terribly wrong. She was afraid it was all over, that she had broken something beyond repair and lost something precious to her, lost the man she loved. A choked gasp escaped when she made that realization. She was in love with him. Carol wished she hadn't realized that because it only made the situation worse; made it hurt more knowing things could be shattered and lost forever. She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, and cried, praying that it wasn't over.

-TWD-

Daryl drove for hours, his mind a mess of horrid memories and jumbled emotions. He didn't care that he didn't have a helmet or shoes; he didn't care about the cold or the gathering storm clouds across the night sky, threatening rain. Everything was torn apart and he just drove. He wasn't paying any attention to where his subconscious was taking him until he was deep in the Georgia mountains; staring at what was left of his father's house. The roof had caved under a fallen tree. Slowly but surely, the earth was consuming the man-made structure. The wood was rotting away and vines covered most of the crumbling exterior.

He sat and stared for a long time before stumbling off the motorcycle and making his way around back. Despite the dark and how much time had passed, Daryl was still familiar enough with the surroundings to make his way to where the shed had once stood. Thunder rumbled overhead as cold rain started to fall and Daryl simply stared at the monster's final resting place, oblivious to the weather.

"Why did you do this to me?" Daryl asked quietly, pain welling up inside. "What did I do?" He moaned, sinking to his knees. Tears spilled down his cheeks as sorrow consumed him. Silence was his only answer and Daryl's sorrow soon turned to rage. Rage at what had been done to him, rage towards a monster that would never give him the answers he sought.

"Answer me!" he roared, tearing at the ground with his fingers. He clawed and dug and tore at the earth searching for answers he'd never find. He wanted to dig the monster up just so he could kill and bury him again.

He would never be normal. He couldn't interact with people like a normal person; he couldn't trust them. And the one person on the planet he'd learned to trust was probably long gone after hurting her. He couldn't even look at a goddamn dog toy without having a fucking meltdown. And he couldn't enjoy intimacy because his father had tainted that too. He would never be normal. Daryl beat his fists on the ground, screaming and yelling at a monster who could no longer hear him. He continued to claw wildly at the muddy ground until his fingers could dig no more and his anger was spent. He slumped over, tired and defeated.

"Why did you hate me?" He whimpered, dirty hands clutching his head as sobs forced their way from his throat. He was broken and he would never understand why.

-TWD-

Carol didn't sleep a wink. After pulling herself together, she picked up the small mess on the floor and threw it away along with the cursed object that had started the whole thing. She knew she wasn't going to sleep and tried to read a book but only stared at the same page for hours. Troubled thoughts haunted her mind and she was worried sick about Daryl and eventually found herself throwing the book across the room in frustration.

Dawn was breaking and still he had not returned. Carol was pacing across the floor, heart heavy with grief and worry. Nothing about what happened made sense and still, she was afraid he wanted her gone but she wasn't going anywhere until she knew he was alright. The sound of an approaching motorcycle stilled her steps and her heart start beating furiously. The rumble drew closer until she heard him pull in the driveway and cut the engine. Carol stood by the couch and stared at the door, waiting anxiously, hands gripping a shawl around her shoulders.

Slowly, the door opened and Daryl shuffled in, head down and he just stopped in the entryway closing the door behind him. He didn't move until he heard a soft gasp and he looked up, surprised to see Carol standing there, worry evident on her face. She approached him slowly, cautiously; his disheveled appearance was very concerning to her. Covered in mud from head to foot, tear tracks were evident on his face, and his eyes were red-rimmed; he was a mess. But as she got closer she noticed he was soaking wet and shivering.

"Oh my God, Daryl, you're freezing! C'mon, we need to get you warmed up before you get sick, okay?" She was standing next to him and carefully placed a hand on his arm trying to pull him forward but he refused to move.

He shook his head no and sank to the floor; Carol went down with him, her heart breaking at the look of anguish on his face as new tears spilled over and she realized his shaking wasn't purely from the cold. Throwing caution to the wind, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, stroking his muddy hair and rocking him gently.

"Shhh, it's okay. It'll be okay," she whispered. She held him for the longest time until he calmed down and even after that they stayed where they were for awhile.

"Why did he do this to me?" He muttered; voice hoarse and scratchy, raw.

"What did he do?" Carol asked quietly. She was almost terrified of his answer but she was determined to help him see this through. Daryl pulled away, looking down at his hands.

He had to tell her. He realized that he couldn't afford to keep shoving it away; the night's events had made that much clear. And when he'd walked in the door and saw her standing there, he realized she had been true to her word – she wasn't going anywhere. And that realization was the final blow to the walls he was holding up. They were crumbling to the ground, revealing the worst wound he'd ever received; the worst pain he'd ever known.

"I thought I was free of 'im . . ." he mumbled quietly. "When Merle an' I left, I thought we was free . . ."

"But you weren't?" Carol nudged when he'd gone silent, still struggling with getting the words out. Daryl shook his head, still unable to look at her.

"No . . ." he swallowed thickly, trying to push past his tightening throat. "Merle was out partyin' one night . . . an' he jus' showed up, outta nowhere . . . Dragged me back home after killin' my dog," Carol's breath left her in shock, "that was Duke's favorite toy ya found . . ."

He paused again, knowing the worst was yet to come and took a deep breath.

"He got me home an' did all sorts a nasty things . . ." Daryl gave a mirthless laugh, "Kept me chained up, starved me, tortured me right in front of Merle," Carol gasped and recoiled, horrified. Who could do such a thing?

"How-?"

"Merle figured out where I was but daddy knew he would an' got the jump on him . . ." He looked at Carol then. And the agony she saw in those blue eyes was killing her. He was laying himself bare before her and the raw pain and torment she saw was agonizing for her too. A sinking feeling in her gut told her this wasn't everything, not yet. But she steeled her resolve and waited for him to continue. Daryl looked away and started shaking anew.

"He . . ." he swallowed thickly as the emotions bubbled up again, "He raped me." Daryl could barely get those words out but when he did, over ten years worth of shame and pain came with it. A sob tore out of his throat and almost instantly he was back in Carol's arms, holding on to her tightly as the pain crashed over them both.

All at once Carol felt as if the floor had fallen from beneath her as everything clicked into place. Tears of her own spilled down her cheeks and she cried for the broken man in her arms. Cried for the pain he'd been put through, cried for his loss of innocence, cried for the love he'd never been given. She held him tightly wishing she could take it all away and it pained her even more, knowing she simply couldn't.

"We killed him . . ." Daryl muttered when he finally calmed down again. And that was it; that was everything.

Carol simply nodded and kissed the top of his head, stroking his cheek with her thumb. That revelation didn't faze her one bit, it rolled off her back like water off a duck. She just couldn't look at this broken man in her arms and blame him for finally escaping from the Devil that haunted him.

They sat in silence for a little while longer; neither had anything to say. Daryl was spent, emotionally exhausted and Carol was still processing everything. But when she noticed the cold seeping into her body she slowly drew them up off the floor and led him to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the water was warm Carol pulled him in after her, neither of them caring about being fully clothed. Carol pushed him under the spray and took each of his hands, slowly and gently scrubbing the dirt and blood off while he stood silently. She had to reach but managed to run her fingers through his hair getting the muck off his scalp. When he was sufficiently clean and warmed up again, Carol turned off the water and wrapped him in a towel before grabbing one for herself. She grabbed his hand and led him to his bedroom before pulling some clean night clothes from his drawers and setting them on his bed. Daryl just stood there, silent and awkward; he didn't really know what he was feeling or how he should feel; didn't know what to say or where to go from here. He was drained.

"I'm going to go put on some dry clothes and I'll be right back, okay?" she said softly and he nodded. When she returned he was in dry clothes and sitting on his bed looking lost and unsure. Carol sat down next to him, twining her fingers with his.

"I din' think ya'd still be here . . . after hurtin' ya like that," he mumbled and Carol leaned her head against his shoulder.

"You're not like Ed, Daryl. You didn't mean to hurt me, you didn't enjoy it," she said quietly, looking up at him. "And I told you, I'm not going anywhere," she smiled softly.

"I know," he said, and he did. After tonight, Daryl finally trusted that Carol wasn't going anywhere.

"Get some rest, we definitely need it," Carol kissed his cheek and moved to go crawl into her own bed but Daryl didn't let go of her hand and she looked back at him.

"Stay?" He asked softly, looking at her with unsure eyes; she felt his hand tremble. Daryl knew she wasn't going anywhere but he wanted to be close to her right now. After what had just happened he found himself yearning for her soothing presence; he needed her. Carol's heart instantly became lighter and she smiled at Daryl, that bright smile she reserved only for him and she nodded, cupping his face in her hands and kissing his forehead.

He stood and drew the blankets back; she gestured for him to crawl in first and he obeyed, lying on his back. Carol followed him and, after searching his face to make sure he was okay with it, she scooted close, pressing her body into his side and laying her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Carol was almost instantly lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heart and Daryl simply enjoyed having her so close.

He lay awake for awhile longer, thoughts drifting through his head. He didn't know what to make of everything but what he did know was that he felt lighter. After more than a decade of holding onto a deep-seated pain, he was letting it go and Carol had helped him achieve that. He would always bear the pain of what his father did but it was becoming a scar now; the wound was closing and healing as much as it could. Daryl looked down at the woman snuggled into him and tightened his arm around her; he drifted off more content than he'd ever been and he knew it was because of her.

-TWD-

A/N: My longest chapter yet! *cheers* Please, please, pretty please tell me what you thought about this chapter with a review?